


Alone Together.

by VirtualElectr8



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: After Act I, Angst, Drabble, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), Kissing, Loneliness, M/M, Nervousness, Oneshot, Spoilers for Act II, soft, unspoken feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24523840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirtualElectr8/pseuds/VirtualElectr8
Summary: Watching everyone around him relate so well to others forces feelings of isolation onto our Hero. However, his feelings might be more understood than he realises. !!Light spoilers for Act II!!
Relationships: Camus | Erik & Hero | Luminary, Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 79





	Alone Together.

**Author's Note:**

> I havent written a fanfiction in like 5 years, and I did it in like, 3 hours, so I'm really sorry if it's awful!! I've been playing a lot of DQXI lately and cannot get over how great of a character Erik is. This is just short and fluffy and can hopefully get me back into it. Thanks for taking the time to read!!

Midnight was fast approaching as the team sat dotted around their campfire. Monsters in the distance hopped and crawled and skipped without direction, though never daring to come too close to the light of the fire. In the distance, the gleam of the moon melted upon the water, and the long grass waved before it, as if in greeting.

All was quiet. There could be peace in this moment, if only temporarily.

Eleven stood just before the camp’s Divination statue, still weighed down by his gear as he observed the camp. Everyone had already eaten by now, and they had formed their own entertainment for the night; Veronica sat cross-legged in the grass, almost smothering in her all-but-overflowing red gown, as her twin kneeled daintily behind her, braiding her thick lengths of golden hair into those iconic braids she sports.

It always seemed as though Serena was the only person who could get Veronica to truly drop her act – her sass and her coarseness – and get her to just be with the rest of them. Both sat joyful, giggling and amused by the show in front of them. Sylvando had made the plains they camped on his stage, and stood before the sisters in performance – swallowing swords and pulling them back up aflame, bending his body into bold, precarious shapes; the performer was truly in his element. Erik stood off to the side, smirking, arms folded and tilting his head as Sylvando’s antics progressed, as if trying to understand how a person could become so…elastic. Before he could even blink, the thespian had grabbed Erik by the arm and was pulling him before the sisters. “A big hand for… My glamourous assistant!” Sylvando exclaimed. The thief looked mortified, stumbling over his words loudly in refusal, desperately trying escape from Sylvando’s shocking tight grip. The twins belly-laughed.

Eleven watched on. A smirk formed, but soon flattened back out. These people in front of him had bonded so closely, and in so little time. Despite the circumstances, despite leaving their homes to join him, they found such solace in each other. The twins would have each other forever. Sylvando’s company was always looked forward to, his loud personality a brilliant relief when the journey became difficult. Erik, once a lone-wolf, hidden in the shadows, had found his clan and they welcomed him completely. Each person here would never be alone.

Except…

A small, Defeated huff found its way past Eleven’s lips. The clang of his broadsword finally coming to rest in the grass just before the statue was hardly noticeable past the laughter and cheer from his friends, but Erik’s ears pricked up at it. Something in it sounded heavier than usual; Eleven regularly donned his weaponry for a while after camp had been formed for the night, just to ensure his friends’ safety a little longer. Each night, Eleven placed his sword down gently, with care, and the sound of it coming to rest had something of a grateful air about it – as though both he and the weapon were glad to have a few hours respite. But not this time. The clang was abrupt - almost defeated, even.

He stared over, squinting past Sylvando’s waving arms and the jittery, bright embers of the campfire,

“… Ah?”

Past the flames, a little way away, the dimly lit body of The Luminary could be seen. He had sunk down into the grass, lying flat on his back with his arms spread out to the sides. One knee bent upwards, something about the position seemed so stiff. Erik quietly slid away from the performance without a word.

Eleven lay still. Up above him, the stars stared back. Each one seemed to have a partner, and all shared their home in the heavens in peace. His thoughts lingered on Cobblestone. On Gemma, on his mother and his grandfather. On the acceptance he had found there, and the protection the townsmen offered him as soon as he was lifted from that lake. Everyone was gone now. All that remained were those awful ruins of his childhood home, and the Tor, which now stood alone and patiently waited to be remembered. 

Loneliness swarmed Eleven’s mind. A soft sigh escaped his tight lips as he watched the mist of the clouds roll past. His head dropped to the side, and he opened the fingers of his hand, raising the mark to his sight. ‘Did I do something awful to deserve this?’ he pondered. This mark often left him feeling only outcasted. It brought nothing but grief. Was there even a point to all of—

“Hey! What’re ya doing over here on your own? You stargazing, or what?” Erik chimed, his face holding the same confident expression as always.  
Eleven’s head jolted upwards from the startle, a surprised gasp escaping him. He must have been so lost in his thoughts he didn't even hear the soft crunch of the grass as the thief had plodded over. Across the fire, the others had joined each other in song, occasionally broken by laughter. The Hero focused on the other man for a short second, before plopping his head back down defeatedly, a huff releasing from him as he did so.

“…C’mooon!” Erik coaxed, a little louder this time, but just as playful. He plopped himself down next to his leader, draping one arm across a bent knee as he sat before him, one hand fidgeting with luscious grass beneath them. “On a night like this, what is there to worry about!?” He gave a cocky wink and a toothy grin - but when his leader did not reciprocate his demeanour, Erik finally released all the air that was confidently puffing up his chest and his gaze faded off into the distance, stoic.

Eleven turned his eyes to him almost immediately. It was rare that the thief let his poised persona rest. All of a sudden, the night around them almost seemed to grow even quieter. The singing dimmed and the campfire’s crackle weakened. Erik had unknowingly grabbed all of the younger’s attention in one fell swoop.

“…Nobody said it was going to be simple, ya know?”

Eleven’s lips parted a little in surprise. Was he being that obvious?

“But it’s no use laying here, feeling sorry about it! Look around you,” Eleven hesitated, but did so. Propping himself up on his elbows, he raised his head and took a glance around the camp at his companions, growing sleepy as they sang. At the landscape, peaceful and welcoming. At Erik, vulnerable. Wise.

“We wouldn't be here if we didn’t have your back. And look at me,” His body gained more life, gesturing towards himself with his open hands and returning to face The Luminary. “I didn’t think things would go like this! A gang full of people who look out for me – and not even ‘cus they have to… They never worry about their coin going missing around me, they let me eat with them, and I know they aren’t going to pull one over on me while I’m asleep, and—” 

Erik halted abruptly, appearing almost frozen. Maybe he was opening up just a little too much now. It was easy for the others to speculate about the life of a thief, but to live it was another thing. The scars he carried, inflicted by friend and foe alike, his days in the jails of Heliodor, carrying with him the knowledge that his ‘friends’ were only such things because he have something they wanted. The life of a thief was a rough - and usually, short – life, indeed. He was lucky. If anyone here knew isolation, it was Erik.

Erik rolled down his top lip and bit it with his teeth in contemplation. That was enough.

Clearing his throat, he summoned his confidence back once more. Turning to Eleven, he smirked, a little more softly than usual. “Just because it’s not simple doesn’t mean it’ll be like this forever. And besides!” He patted the younger on the shoulder with a solid, reassuring grip, “you know I’ve got your back, so stop moping!”  
Eleven’s chest tightened at once. His body stiffened, and immediately he began to realise. it was true. Erik had been with him the longest, and regularly put himself at risk for his leader. He allowed Jasper to take him, just so Eleven could escape, and during combat, he had noticed the thief would go harder with his attacks if a particular enemy had badly hurt Eleven. The older had a reputation for himself, and his confident aura was definitely able to pull you in… Perhaps he had a companion in Erik all along.

“It’s getting late,” Erik muttered, his smirk still lingering. Using the hand on The Hero’s shoulder, he began to push himself up to his feet to leave. But wait- Eleven hadn’t even had a chance to respond yet. He’d offered nothing back, even after Erik had left himself wide open like that. This was too quick, he hadn’t planned for this.

“We should get some sle—”

A hand grabbed Erik’s arm, startling him, but before he had a chance to react, Eleven had sat right up, and pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

Time froze. Everything fell silent.

Erik gave a small, shocked breath, and Eleven only then realised what he had done. Both boys quickly withdrew, falling apart onto the grass, bright red and startled. Eleven clasped a hand over his mouth, unable to comprehend if that was what he had really meant to do or not. Erik slapped a hand onto the cheek Eleven had just parted from, leaving it to linger there indefinitely. His skin burnt gently under his fingers.

They stared at each other for a long time, with only the call of insects in the grassy plains to fill the space between them. Erik’s mouth moved a few times, but no words could be found.

“…sorry.”

The thief’s ears pricked up a little. “W…what did you...?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… Sorry.”

It was extremely rare to hear his leader’s voice. Those outside of their small group never heard it at all. For a man with such a look about him – such furrowed brows, and sharp, bright eyes, one would never have expected such a soft, kind voice to escape him. It was deep, like the sea, and carried with it the light grit of responsibility.

After a second, Erik let his shoulders relax, and his hand dropped away from his face. His open jaw closed softly, and a contemplating hum came from him. Something about this young man before him was different from all the rest. He fought harder for him, and doubly that if he became injured. He risked his life for him, and followed him aimlessly. He knew he was older, wiser, stronger than The Luminary, but still, he came running to his beck and call each time. Erik swallowed hard, and climbed to his feet.

Glancing over, the rest of the party appeared to have already retired some time ago. At least this could be left between just the two of them.

Trying to hide his nervousness, he plodded towards the younger man, hoping to feign his usual confidence. “No,” he began, “It’s alright… no hard feelings,” he gave a weak chuckle, extending an arm towards his companion. Truth be told, the sound of the other’s voice had completely softened his worries, and had him considering that actually, what happened just now wasn’t so bad after all. Perhaps he was even… lucky.

Eleven waited a few seconds, his nerves getting the better of him. Tentatively, he reached up, clasping the other’s wrist and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Would things be awkward between them now? Had he ruined their friendship? “I think we should sleep too,” Erik stated, trying his best to keep eye contact – and failing each time. Hoping to ease his nerves, he chimed, “Another long day ahead of us tomorrow!”

Eleven gave a weak, small nod, and hastily began to move away towards his spot in the grass. Before he could manage that, however, Erik tugged back on his arm, catching his attention. His gut dropped; was he finally going to get hit for what he did? Maybe there was no getting over this after all. The Luminary began to turn with haste, and as soon as he did, his chin was carefully caught by the thief’s hand.

Without missing a beat, Erik gave his head a slight tilt, and pressed his lips to the younger’s. Eleven gave a small, startled hiccup, but did not move an inch. This time, the two remained this way for much longer. Long enough for Eleven’s startled eyes to come to a rest, and for his tense, high shoulders to give a calming droop. His guilt from earlier began to dissolve, and his mind was still. At this moment, he felt more understood than ever before – more in-tune with another individual than ever before. His worries faded.

Finally, the thief released him, though slower than he had expected to. Their lips fell apart like the wilting petals of a flower – unwillingly, as if trying to hold on just a little longer. The two stared at each other in complete silence, the only thing to be heard was the thumping of Erik’s pulse filling his ears. This close, details never before revealed could be found; the gentle lines of a hard life on Erik’s brow. The bright twinkle of determination in the eyes of The Luminary. They breathed softly against each other’s mouths a second longer, before the older of the two broke the gaze, and abruptly began moving away across the camp.

“Goodnight,” called the thief, who had now settled down in the grass to sleep, laying with his back to the other. His pulse was only now beginning to quiet down. He had left The hero right where he stood. Eleven stared at the back of the thief’s head, bringing a shy hand up to his lips. A quiet voice answered him,

“…. Goodnight.”


End file.
